Humbug, A Beauty and the Beast Christmas
by JessicaRae95
Summary: When Jason, an angel who has not earned his wings, finds himself in a community of humble tunnel dwellers, will their trials be enough to earn his ticket home, or will his fall be the end of his dreams? Beauty and the Beast/Its a Wonderful Life/A Christmas Carol mashup. Please review!
1. A Fall

_I am back, all you lovely people! I have not forgotten all of you. It has been a rough few months but I am finally back and ready to go! Gearing up for Winterfest, I have a poem that I am still working on and plan to submit for the Fest! Thank you Thunderhoof for your your encouragement to do so last year! I have not forgotten those following Risen from the Grave. There are some serious plot bunnies running around in that room, so I am keeping that door closed until they settle down. For those that are following Breaking Down Barriers, now that the snow is returning in our part of the world, you may begin seeing updates on that one. It was really hard to write a snow rescue with no snow!_

 _This story is not part of my Scarlett/Mouse series. It is a stand alone, more Canon story, and any OC's are not permanent to the storyline. Will have fragments of A Christmas Carol and It's a Wonderful Life in it. I do not own any of them. Just sayin'._

 _Here goes! (Flexes fingers. It feels great to be back! Commence typing!)_

 _Please review! They are the life blood of the author!_

TIS THE SEASON_

The streets Above were sparkling in the blanket of new fallen snow. All across Central Park, the glitter of the lights strung in the trees shone, making the pathways seem bright as day, even at midnight. The jangling of the bells on shop doors created their own continuous song, as the busy holiday shoppers trotted up one street and down another. There was music in the air, and the seasonal joy drifted down upon each person with each flake of white that fell from the clouds.

Up on top of the fluffy snow clouds, a figure sat, watching the goings on below them through a break in the fluff.

"It's a shame, Jason. A downright shame."

A taller figure drifted from a different vantage point to stand next to the sitting one. "What is, Chester? Watching earth again?"

"The spirit of the season, Jason, such a mixed emotion."

The tall figure smiled and laid a gentle hand on the shoulder of the older man. "I agree, Chester. Some spend Christmas, the time of good will, brooding over gain and receiving, while others would spend their last cent to aid the loneliness of another at such a time, but they do not have the means. But their heart is in the right place."

Chester smiled. "You have the right idea, Jason. Say, why are you out here? It is dangerous."

Jason laughed heartily. "I might ask you the same, Chester. You come out here on the clouds whenever you want."

Chester shook a finger at the laughing young man. "But I have wings, Jason. You have not earned them yet. One step through the cloud cover and you will fall to earth and have to earn those wings through pain and suffering. You have only a few more weeks till those wings are yours. Why can't you stick with palace duty until then?"

Jason sighed, and sat down on a puff of cloud. "I want to watch them, Chester. I have never been sent to the aide of an earthbound human. I know sometimes He sends us when they are in danger, or lonely, or troubled. But I have never had that privilege."

"All in good time, Jason." Chester spoke kindly, waving his hand at the impatient young man. "Once you have your wings, the Almighty will give you your place among the messengers."

Jason nodded absentmindedly and propped his chin in his hand. "How do I be patient until then, Chester."

The older gentleman smiled. "Just keep watching and following orders, Jason. Your time will come."

Jason nodded again and paced atop the cloud, his impatience quite evident. "Sure, Chester, sure. How long did you wait for your wings?"

Chester opened his mouth to reply, but a widening crack in the shifting cloud swallowed Jason completely before he could warn him. Chester rushed to the edge of the cloud and peered over the wispy perimeter. Jason was lost to sight. The older angel sighed, and sat down. Jason would have to earn his wings the hard way. If he survived the fall.

TIS THE SEASON_

The busy hustle of the season spread into the hidden tunnels of Below. The usually quiet tunnels were filled with the laughter of children, the tapping of goodwill messages on the pipes from Helpers below, and the rustling of cloaks traveling to and fro as chambers were lit and decorated.

A tall, lion-like man walked slowly beside an older gentleman. The gentleman had the proud, angular face of a distinguished aristocrat, but the calm air of a commoner. His cloak brushed the ground as they walked, hiding a slight limp that kept him walking at an even pace.

The lion man was speaking.

"Father, Rebecca and the candle makers have completed their allotted amount for the Christmas ceremony. The children have been working daily on the music arrangements, and Jamie and Mary have so much food in preparation that I think we may need to invite some Helpers to take some above to the homeless."

The older gentleman smiled and patted the lion-man on his broad shoulder. "Well done, Vincent. I do believe we shall have a grand Christmas."

"I believe we shall, Father. You can feel the gentleness of the season settling into every crevice of these walls right after Thanksgiving. Oh look, Geoffrey got the holly hung over the doorway to the library. He originally came up with mistletoe from somewhere, and I instructed him against it."

Father cast a quick glance over his glasses at Vincent and nodded. "Well done, my boy. Wherever would he have gotten that?"Vincent smiled and followed his father and mentor into the well-lit library. "From Mouse, I assumed."

Father chuckled and sat down at the quaint chess table. "A well-determined guess, I am quite sure, Vincent. Chess?"

Vincent seated himself across from Father and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "A most useful way to spend the afternoon, Father. Where is the tea?-"

At that moment, several of the little children, followed by Jamie, raced clamoring into the usually quiet room, launching themselves at Father and Vincent. For a moment there was pandemonium as several climbed onto father's lap, and Vincent's chair, and others tried to pole on top, all talking at once. Suddenly, a shrill whistle pierced the air. Everyone froze.

Jamie placed the whistle back into her pocket. "Now, you little heathens, mind your manners. Father and Vincent, the children have something to tell you."

Amused, Father and Vincent waited as the children all glanced at each other, then spoke as if in one voice, "The Christmas tree is ready to decorate!"

Amid the new chorus of excited children's clambering, Father spoke to Jamie. "I see that Winslow has kept the chain of command running smoothly and there were no casualties on the way down to the Great Hall with the tree Peter sent? What exactly do you wish from Vincent and I, child?"Jamie smiled. "Well, Father, I - we - need someone there to keep order. Winslow and William are setting the tree up - it is quite beautiful - and doing a fine job, but when the children start shouting and there are decorations everywhere, I just worry that there will be accidents. And you know, I am barely a kid too, and they hardly listen to me at all, they can't help it after all, it's Christmas."Jamie finished in such a depressed voice, that Father chuckled. "Now, now, Jamie. I will come and help. Vincent, why don't you see if Rebecca has the candle delivery's ready for distribution to the helpers, and I will take these munchkins down to the Winterfest chamber and keep order."

Vincent smiled. "Father, you are becoming quite a softie."

Father scowled over his glasses. "Vincent, I do not wish to ever hear that from you or anyone else again."For a moment, everyone fell quiet and were worried that Father was angry. He straightened his cloak around him and then pushed up his glasses. "It would not do a thing for my image."

He spoke in a fake-haughty tone, causing everyone to burst out laughing. Vincent clapped a paw on Father's shoulder. The laughter brought an instant good mood over the little group and they began the little journey toward the Great Hall.

A_LITTLE_WHILE_LATER

A young man scurried along the dark alleyways, his shaggy hair nearly hiding his face. His careful movements kept him shielded from the view of any chance passersby. In his hands were clutched random pieces of metal, and a long spring swung from his thumb. He ducked beneath a gate that was half crumbling and turned toward the hidden entrance that would take him Below. His name was Mouse. A gatherer, he was returning to Below with finds that he could use to create his inventions. He stopped behind a row of garbage bins and reached for the hidden handle of the door. At that moment, a groan reached his ears. Instinct told him to run and quickly hide, but the groan was not that of someone that could move quickly. The young man quietly laid down his small treasures and tiptoed around the garbage cans. There before him on the ground lay a young man. He looked to be in his late twenties, wearing a white shirt and khaki pants. His arms were laying at odd angles, almost appearing to not belong to him at all. He seemed to be in a lot of pain. He was moaning a quiet complaint that only those severely injured can make. The tunnel dweller crept closer, careful to be quiet and out of sight.

He stepped on a tin can by accident, and he saw the stricken figure stiffen at the sound, his chest rising and falling quickly. "Who - is - there?" The fallen figure spoke hoarsely.

The young tunnel dweller crept closer and knelt cautiously beside the young man. "My name Mouse. You - hurt bad. Must get Father."

The young man nodded once, his breathing labored and harsh.

Mouse furrowed his brow and touched the man's bruised arm. "What - happened?"

The young man opened blue eyes and looked straight into Mouse's worried face. "I fell from Heaven."

And he fell back unconscious.


	2. Battle of Worlds

"He told you he was from where?"

Father gazed at Mouse incredulously.

""He said - he -fell from-Heaven." Mouse replied uncertainly, tossing his hair out of his worried eyes.

Father rolled his eyes and helplessly threw up his hands. "And he is now down here among us. He's probably a psychopath or lunatic something. Fell down from Heaven indeed."

Peter, the kindly doctor from Above, walked down the steps from the hospital chamber to where Father and Mouse stood in frustrated stance. "Take it easy on the boy, Jacob. It is what the man claims. He has spoken of nothing else except someone named Chester, and praying to the Almighty, since I began working on him."

Father rubbed his face with a calloused hand and sighed in frustration. "We really do have a lunatic on our hands, Peter."

Peter chuckled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Somehow, I don't think so, Jacob. It is the Christmas season, and -after all - anything is possible."

Father frowned. "Oh, come now, Peter. You don't actually believe him?"  
Peter smiled kindly, a knowing sparkle in his elderly face. "Christmas is a time for magic, Jacob. don't tell me you have forgotten it after all these years."

"Well, I have not forgotten it, but I also know how to keep a grasp on reality. Unlike some people." Father glanced at Mouse pointedly. Peter laughed again.

"Oh, calm down, Jacob. It could be a touch of delirium from his injuries. He seems to have a great deal of trouble seeing, and has some facial bruising and scrapes, and has sustained several broken ribs, a fractured knee, and a pretty good knock on the head." Peter's elderly face took on a grave, worried expression that Jacob caught quickly.

"What is it, Peter? What else is there?"

The kindly physician shook his head. "Jacob, I may be going out on a limb, but it looked as if he had fallen off the roof of that old warehouse."

Jacob raised his eyebrows. "Well, there you go. That is what happened and he is just delirious about it and thinks he fell from heaven."

Peter shook his head. "No, his injuries are more extensive than what that small of a fall would do to him. It looks like he hit the roof face first then fell off of it. He didn't appear to have fallen on his face on the ground. He was too out of it to have turned over."

Jacob sighed and shook his head. It was getting more confusing by the second.

* * *

Jason awoke with a barely suppressed groan upon his lips. He felt as if every bone in his body were broken into a million small fragments, but as he lifted his left arm slightly, he realized that it couldn't be all that bad if he could move his limbs. His eyes could barely make out dimly lit walls around him that appeared to be made of stone. Used to a much brighter, cleaner environment, Jason found from 10 seconds of attempting to see everything about him that he didn't know anything about Earth after all. "Should have paid more attention to Chester." he groaned to himself. He attempted to move his legs, but found one of them bandaged up and intense pain shot through it as well as his ribs when he started to sit up. his shirt was gone and replaced with bandaging wrapped tightly around his torso. Stinging pain when he moved told him they were probably cracked. A gentle hand laid on his bare shoulder, pushing him down, and a kind voice spoke.

"Easy there. Father, he is coming to."

The voice that broke into Jason's reverie instantly calmed him, and he found that he knew the speaker. "Vincent?" He spoke in a raspy voice, muddled by the morphine Peter had given him. "Vincent? Oh, good. Someone I know." And he fell back again unconscious.

Father rushed into the white curtained room, his quick pace slowed by Vincent's upheld hand. "Easy, Father, he has collapsed again."

Peter poked his head around the curtain as well. "That is to be expected with his head injury. He will fade in and out for a few days, maybe even a week or a month. We have no way of knowing for sure."

Jacob frowned at Peter and turned to Vincent. "Did he say anything, son?"

Vincent's face was twisted into an expression that no one could quite decipher. It was a long moment before he spoke. "He said that he knew who I was and called me by name."

The blank stares that he received mirrored that of his own.

"I did not tell him my name."

Father shook his head. "He must just me messed up from his injuries, Vincent. Keep an eye on him while I see Peter out. Mary will come by with blankets. We will have to move him to a bedroom chamber when he is better, but best to keep him here for now. Mouse, will you see to it that no one comes in here?"

The young man ducked his head in response, a simple nod that Father understood. As he walked past the young man, Father patted his shoulder, a gentle apology for his outburst earlier. Mouse laid his hand over the bigger, stronger one for a brief second in acknowledgement and walked up the stairs to stand by the door. He watched the sleeping figure with an intense gaze that Vincent couldn't figure out.

"He called your name."

Mouse finally spoke in a quite tone that Vincent had never heard him use. Vincent nodded. "Yes. He did."

"Do you believe he is an angel, Vincent?"

Vincent looked up quickly at that question to gaze at the calm boy, his eyes fixed on the sleeping figure, his face shaded by his mop of hair, but his mouth twisted into that expression he made when he was unsure and thinking very hard.

Vincent sighed and pulled the blanket over the still figure. "Who knows the truth, Mouse. The right thing to do is keep your heart and mind open to possibilities and treat this man just like we would anyone else. He is definitely mortal and needs time to heal."

Mouse nodded, and leaned against the door frame, planting his heels in such a way as to indicate he was going to be keeping watch for some time.

* * *

Catherine hurried up to the quite drain in the park, glanced both ways, and quickly entered. It wasn't long before she was hurrying through the tunnels to the hospital chamber. Father met her there. Noting her worried expression, he stopped her, grasping her arms in his hands. "Catherine, are you okay?"

She stopped walking and gazed at him as if in a trance. "I-I must talk to Vincent. I must see him."  
Father took her hand and led her toward the stairway. "He is up there, go quietly, because we have a patient that he is sitting with and he must not be disturbed."

He noted the look of fear when he said Vincent was in the hospital chamber, and the look faded when he explained Vincent's purpose there. Catherine smiled gently and nodded. "Thank you, Father."

She quickly climbed the stairway, pushing aside the white curtain at the top to find Vincent sitting beside a quietly sleeping young man who looked like he had met a subway train head on. Vincent looked up when she entered.

"Catherine! Are you well?"

She stepped just inside the door, subconsciously pulling her jacket around her body. If she could have seen her disheveled expression, she would have understood his concern. Pale cheeks and lips, windblown hair, mud on her shoes from a quick careless run through the park. Vincent stood and came to stand at her side. "Catherine?"

She finally looked away from the young man and looked up to Vincent's worried face.

"Oh, I am fine, Vincent, just came quickly. I had to see you. I had to!"

Vincent took her in his strong arms and spoke quietly. "Come here. You have had a fright, Catherine. I felt a disturbance in the bond, but you shut me out."

She clutched him closer and nodded. "I was afraid he would see you if you came."

"He?"

Catherine pulled away to look up into the dark face and shook her head. "Vincent, I had a visit from a man named Lucifer."

At the mention of that name, the young man immediately sat up. An immediate onslought of pain overloaded his senses, and he collapsed back down. Vincent rushed to his side. "No, no you must stay still," he chided kindly.

The young face was still unconcious, but the voice spoke weakly, his head tossing from side to side. "Lucifer must not find me. He must not! I must get back. I have to get back! Chester!" And he fell silent again.

Catherine, who had moved closer to the bed, and Vincent's eyes met. His were concerned, her's were knowing.

"Catherine?"

She motioned for him to follow her, and they stepped beyond the white curtain.

"Vincent, today a man who called himself Lucifer came to the DA's office. Said he was the manager of an insane asylum in Albany. Said that yesterday, a young man escaped and hopped a cab and they lost him, but he was able to track him here. Said he has an 'angel' complex and thinks that he has been sent to protect someone. He didn't say who, but I just got a bad feeling from this guy. I am sure I saw him following me when I left the DA's office and headed home, but I lost him on the way there, because the traffic was really bad and I used all the secret shortcuts. I came here as soon as I was sure it was safe."

Vincent frowned and paced for a moment.

"Catherine, if you see that man again, find out all you can and we will see what happens when our friend wakes up. I think we may be caught up in a supernatural battle of worlds."

* * *

 **Thank you all so much for your continued support! There is a lot of insanity going on with getting ready for the holidays! I am going to try to get this done in the next week, if I can keep it all together! It is almost Christmas time around here, so definitely stay tuned! Appreciate the reviews! You are all amazing! Any guesses on where this is going...**


	3. An Angel's Tale

Vincent sat beside the young man for hour after hour. While sleeping, the young man mumbled in his sleep quite a bit about someone named Chester, but most often his voice took on an intense, fearful tone and he spoke of someone named Lucifer. Vincent spoke calmly to him in those moments, not sure as to what he should do to alleviate the young man's obvious suffering. He took to reading Great Expectations aloud, also enjoyed by Catherine, who had stayed Below at Vincent's request. He did not want her to leave until he could walk her home himself. He had not liked the idea of a strange man with unknown intentions following her to her house. It just couldn't end well.

Sometimes, Vincent read from memory, allowing his eyes to stray from the written page to gaze at his soulmate. She sat on a blanket by the door, her back against the wall, watching the sleeping patient. Her hair was tumbling into her face, and he could not see a clear view of her features, but their special bond allowed him to sense the concern she felt for their visitor, and also to feel the gentle comfort she was drawing from the peaceful solitude of the familiar tunnels. This Lucifer fellow had scared her pretty badly. He could tell that the moment she ran into the chamber. He had not seen such fear in her dark eyes for a long, long time. He could also sense that she didn't buy a word of the devilish stranger's story. Vincent paused in his recitation and reflection as Father entered the chamber quietly, moving to check on the unconscious young man, laying a hand on Catherine's head as he passed.

He spoke in almost a whisper. "Catherine, my child, how do you feel?"

She glanced up at him, confusion crossing her face, then she recalled her wild charge into the tunnels and smiled wanly. "Much better now, thank you Father. You have been very kind."

He smiled and nodded, checking the stranger's forehead for a fever. "Mary is bringing up a bit of dinner in a few minutes, child. Why don't you join Vincent and I?"

She returned the smile, thinking of how not long ago he did not approve of her entrance to their world, but now he acted as if she was his very own flesh. She nodded in return. "That would be lovely, Father. Thank you for the invitation. Afterwards, Vincent, I really need to go Above. We have a hearing on a case tomorrow and I have to be there."

Vincent frowned, his pensive gaze fixed on a place in the corner. "Catherine, why don't you stay here tonight. I feel uneasy about you going Above."

Catherine turned to look at him, and although she appeared as if she would argue, she really couldn't deny that she did not especially want to go back Above tonight. So she nodded once, and leaned back against the wall. Father saw this and turned from his examination. "No, no, both of you, go eat. I hear Mary with the food now."

"Father! Vincent! Tea is here!" Came Mary's kind voice. Father chuckled and called back.

"We will be right down, Mary!"

Father held out a hand to Catherine and helped her stand, passing her hand to Vincent, as he had come to stand next to them. "Take the lady down and get a good dinner, the both of you. I will be down shortly."

Vincent fixed keen eyes on the older man, laying his hand on the firm shoulder and spoke in a hushed tone. "Will you be okay, Father?"

Jacob studied his son's face for a moment, then nodded firmly. "Yes. Take her down and rest a little."

Once alone in the white chamber, Jacob sat down next to the young man. He was surprised to see the dark eyes were open and looking straight at him.

"Hi."

Father hesitated. "Hi -?"

"Jason." The young man gazed calmly at the older man with a gentle smile. "And you are Jacob Wells."

Father frowned, the hair on his spine standing on end. "How do you know that?"

Jason turned his face away and sighed. "You won't believe me."

"I still want you to tell me."

The young man slowly turned his face back to Father and smiled again. "Really?"

"Really."

"Help me sit up first, I am getting a terrible cramp in my neck craning to see you like this."

Father moved quickly to help, chagrined that his internal doctor mode always overrode any common sense he had. Before he realized it, he had helped the young man into a sitting position, propped up with various pillows and blankets. He did not miss the pain that flitted across the bruised features and was quickly masked by another bright smile. "Much better."

"Go ahead," Father replied, getting back to the task at hand. He had a feeling he was about to be in for the craziest story he had ever heard, and he was not disappointed.

* * *

"My name is Jason. I am an angel in the Kingdom of the Almighty. I am a guardian Angel. When people on Earth are sick, in danger, or distressed, it is the job of the Guardian Angel to fulfill the wishes of the Almighty. Sometimes He orders us to stand in the gap for them between Life and death and protect them from harm. Sometimes when they are sick and very weak, He requests that we escort them across that gap and bring them to Paradise. That is a special place He has reserved for the weary to recover a little and one day all be united together into one big happy family. The Almighty wishes no ill will on anyone on Earth, and He is aware that their parting will cause those remaining much sorrow, but ultimately He wants everyone to join Him and knows that their arrival is more joyous than any other event we have in the Kingdom. He does allow those that have passed over the gap to walk among their loved ones. They are invisible, which doesn't help matters much, but sometimes their presence is felt. Some clever ones are able to become visible to their loved ones as a bird or butterfly. I love to watch those interactions. I am still learning all about the job of the Guardian, and thus, I did not have my wings. My teacher, Chester, was a well studied Guardian, and he was teaching me how to cross the Gap safely and gently when I am returning with one the Almighty has called home in my arms. The first time that I went, I was sent to a troubled elderly man that had lived a life of terrible suffering. He struggled with a heart condition all of his life, and something those on earth call diabetes? Anyway, I came for him, and he was so ready to go to peace. His wife was terribly broken up about it, and was begging him not to go. It was quite sad. But life had tormented him enough, and we knew she would soon follow him, and her sorrow would be forgotten. I stepped through the gap with Chester, and we met Lucifer there. He stood by the bedside, tormenting the poor wife with worries and fears, although she couldn't see him. See, he is an angel of darkness. His kingdom is full of hate and fear and cruel desires. Lucifer saw us and snarled at us, and I knew we only had a moment. The man could sense death was there, and he was struggling against it. Chester stood between Lucifer and myself, and I spoke to the man, and calmed his fears, and told him that the Almighty was calling him, and he turned and spoke to his sorrowful wife, and said "Helen, the angels are here now, I have to go." Those words calmed her own fears, and I picked up his spirit and we took him. Lucifer followed us the whole way, angry and petulant that we had been sent to retrieve him. He knew that he could not go against the words of the Almighty. But he is the enemy of those the Almighty loves. I know he is after me. I heard Catherine speak of him a while ago. See, he can try to win me to his side, as I am now mortal with a free will. I must resist him and he will flee from me. But if I get weak, and lose that vision of where I belong, then he can snatch me away and there will be very little hope of my ever coming back to my job. If only I had stayed away from the cloud fringe, I would be on a mission right now. There is an old lady in Times Square that will be called tonight. I heard Chester speak of it before I fell. He will have to come for her alone. Lucifer will be there too, for she will be robbed and killed. He will attempt to snatch her away. I must go to her!"

He threw back the covers as if to leap to his feet, but in his dazed state at the story he had just heard, Father managed to grab his shoulders. "Jason, no. You couldn't possibly! Your knee is crushed and you can not walk on it!"

The look of despair in the young man's face caused Father to amend his phrasing quickly. "By yourself. I will have Vincent accompany you."

Jason frowned. "He can come, but he can not alter the future."

Father swallowed hard. He knew that meant that Vincent could not 'rescue' the woman. "Try telling him that."

Jason gazed calmly at the elderly physician. "I mean it, Jacob. The Almighty has spoken. This lady will be diagnosed with leukemia next week if we do not bring her home tonight, and she will become devastated and sorrowful and become easy prey for Lucifer. Better to take her now."

Father rubbed his face. What on earth had he gotten himself into? He pinched his arm, watching as the skin reddened beneath his fingers, and stinging tendrils of nerves yelled at him to release them. He looked up into the kind young man's face and sighed. It wasn't a dream. He really was talking to a man who claimed to be an angel.

* * *

 **Thank you all for the views! Thunderhoof, you are such a gem! Thank you for your support. Will be shooting you an email tomorrow, got a ton of Christmas party stuff to do today...hugs to all!**


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